The State of Things
by Galiko
Summary: Set after Something Old, Something New. The least someone like Mibuchi Reo can do is be grateful that someone like Akashi Seijuurou traveled around the world to be with him once more.


Reo Mibuchi is a busy man.

He keeps himself that way on purpose, moving from place to place, enjoying the rush of meeting new people, honing his language skills, sealing deals for his new firm with a staggering success rate. He'd volunteered for an overseas gig once, the night after Akashi's engagement party, and found he was good at it; the firm had requested him again, and he'd jumped at the chance.

His apartment isn't much to speak of, though he's lived in it for nearly two years now. It's modest enough by London standards, close to Fleet Street, above someplace that always smells like processed meat products they don't even have in Japan. It's enough for him, anyway, and he doesn't often have company.

Which is why it's such a surprise to open the door at a sharp, precise knock and find himself face to face with Akashi Seijuuro.

"Sei-chan," he says, startled into familiarity. "What-what are you doing here?"

"Ah. So you _do_ remember me thoroughly enough to address me so informally," Akashi curtly 'greets', his arms folded over his chest as he stares up at the other man. It has already been a bad day, with delayed flights and incompetent taxi drivers in the rain and he _hates_ London, absolutely hates it, but not as much as he hates Japan right now and thus he is here, drenched and mussed and glaring _up_ at someone that he rather wants to rip the throat out of at this point. "You changed your number. Three times, in fact. One would think you were avoiding me."

"One," Reo says quietly, "would wonder how you had found my number enough times to know how many it was changed."

He steps back, opening the door wide. "It's not like anything you're used to, but please come in. I'll make tea."

At this point, Mibuchi shouldn't doubt his resources. The insinuation ruffles his feathers like none other, but Akashi lets himself in anyway, a valiant attempt made not to put his nose in the air (it's more irritation in general, not the actual apartment itself-although that, too, could use some improvements). "Well," Akashi begins, his eyes sharply fixated on Mibuchi's back as he peels off his coat, "_aren't_ you avoiding me?"

"I am." Mibuchi takes Akashi's coat, hanging it on the coatstand without looking at Akashi overmuch, then turns to put the kettle on. "Not as successfully as I'd hoped. Sei-chan is so resourceful."

"Why?" It's best to be blunt, Akashi thinks as he neatly arranges himself in the nearest chair, even if he finds the whole process of it all infuriating. There's no _reason_ for Mibuchi to avoid him-at least, as far as he can think of, and it rubs him the wrong way to think there might be something he is missing. Worst yet is the niggling thought that he's _done something_ and didn't realize it, when Akashi is always quite aware that he has done something offensive or distasteful. "I believe there is at least some sort of _courtesy_ involved in ending these sorts of things," he stiffly adds.

"I had thought there was some courtesy involved, yes," Mibuchi says mildly, retrieving the seldom-used second teacup from the top shelf. He gives it a quick wash, drying it on a clean dishrag, and sets his hands on the countertop, taking a slow deep breath. "You got _engaged_. Did you think that wouldn't end it?"

Akashi stares back at him before his head slowly tilts to the side. "But I've been engaged since I was thirteen, technically. I just didn't mention it until the actual ceremonies and the like became an inevitability."

"And if I'd known, we never would have gotten involved." Mibuchi shrugs, a little self-deprecating. "I'm not that kind of person, you know. I don't like going behind someone's back, especially not an innocent woman."

It's _very_ difficult not to groan. "Innocent. Ah, yes, because precious, lovely Minako _certainly_ doesn't have a summer home with her childhood sweetheart. Undoubtedly, she will retreat to it as soon as she is done producing heirs for my family."

"She's your _wife_." Mibuchi swallows, raking the hair back from his forehead. "It means something. If she's not being faithful to you, maybe you should be a better husband."

"Over 30% of marriages in Japan are arranged," Akashi deadpans. "Loveless marriages are not an _uncommon_ thing, Reo. We are fulfilling our duties to our families, and that is all there is to it. It isn't as if I am _abusing_ the woman; I am certain she will be just as happy as I will to be done with the atrocities of pregnancy and to be able to shove the little brats off onto half a dozen caretakers. Triplets, by the way. You missed that, in the months I have not been able to contact you."

"Congratulations."

Mibuchi turns back around, leaning back on the counter. "This isn't the Meiji period. You can't have a wife and a lover and expect everyone to be fine with it. Marriage is supposed to mean more than that now."

"I don't expect _anyone_ to be fine with it. Do you think I broadcast what I do in my spare time with men?" Akashi's eyes narrow, and he rather hates the rising of his irritation and _frustration. _"I flew around the world to speak to you," he slowly, _calmly_ says, "and you don't seem to care."

Mibuchi's hands clench on the counter until his knuckles turn white. "You think I'd be angry with you if I didn't care?" he demands. The teapot starts to shriek, and he flips it off, dousing a couple teabags in their cups. "I left Japan because I care. Honestly, Seijuuro, how do you expect us to have any kind of a relationship if you're _married_? You just...announced that you were getting married, but you wanted to keep me on the side? Do you have any idea how conceited and careless that sounds?"

"I don't see why it should change anything." He's missing something, definitely. Akashi feels like he usually does in moments like these. No matter how good he is at manipulating others, _this_ sort of nuance of relationships is often lost on him, and that annoys him like nothing else. He frowns, his head tilting to the other side now. "The marriage is just a superficial thing. Perhaps in the public eye it isn't, but it is far more 'on the side' than you are assuming yourself to be."

He should have known better than to assume Akashi would understand. Mibuchi sighs, bringing the teacups over to the low trestle table, and sits facing the other man. "It changes things because it's _wrong_," he explains, as if to someone significantly younger-and maybe Akashi is, in a lot of emotional ways. "That matters to me."

Akashi plucks up his cup, tugging on the string of the teabag. "Even with the knowledge that she cares equally little for me and is merely happy to enjoy my family's money?" He snorts. "At least I am _discreet_ about it. Her 'childhood friend' visits her weekly while she is on bed rest. You should have seen her face when I announced a 'business trip' to London."

"Then she's equally at fault. Just because one person disrespects their vows of fidelity doesn't mean the other should." He searches for an example, and finds it. "Remember when we played Kirasaki Daiichi? You knew they would try to injure us, but you never told us to use such disgusting tactics. You knew we could win the proper way, because that's what's right."

Akashi's head tilts back as he thinks. "But that comparison is invalid. You're implying someone is being harmed by her infidelity and mine, and that isn't the case at all. Perhaps you don't _like it_, morally, but no harm is coming to you. In fact, I am giving you preferential treatment. You should be happy about that." Theoretically.

"I should be _happy_ that I'm the reason you're forsaking a sacred bond with the woman you've sworn your life to?" Mibuchi's expression is incredulous as he drinks his tea, shaking his head. "What about your children?"

"Well, I haven't forsaken _any_ bonds yet, because you haven't answered any of my phone calls for god knows how long," Akashi darkly replies. "And _what_ about my children? Do you honestly think I will be telling them that you and I are _involved?_"

Mibuchi stares. "Do you really think it's fine to raise children when their parents don't care about each other? They'll realize that. That could really mess them up. What if they think you don't love them either, since you don't love their mother?"

"My parents obviously held no affection for one another, and I turned out quite well."

"But-" _But that's really sad_, Mibuchi wants to say, but what's the point? He sighs, takes another sip of his tea, and sets down the cup. It _is_ flattering, that Akashi would fly across the world just to see him, and Mibuchi sighs again. He almost reaches out a hand, but stops halfway through, letting it drop down to his lap. "I've missed you. More than I should have. I tried not to."

"… If you've missed me, then you should have answered my phone calls." Akashi takes a slow sip of his tea, wrapping both hands around the cup. "Are you staying here permanently?"

Mibuchi sets his cup aside after draining it to the dregs, eyes darting around the room. "I don't have a reason to come home. London's nice enough." He sighs, then forgets politeness, reaching out to delicately touch the back of Akashi's hand. "You should have told me sooner. I thought you were throwing me away, then when you said you weren't...it sounded like you were asking me to be your love nest mistress. I'm not that kind of man."

"No, you're the most annoying sort," Akashi mutters, making a valiant effort not to glower (and failing rather fantastically). He frowns down at Mibuchi's hand for a moment before pulling away to set his tea cup aside. "I'm going to be running for office next year, in the House of Representatives. If I had wanted to 'throw you away', I can only imagine I would have done so far before now, and much more thoroughly, to preserve all aspects of my reputation."

"You didn't _tell_ me. You just...announced you were getting married. That it was all finished and arranged." Mibuchi folds his arms. "If it was such an unwanted hardship, you should have said that too, instead of acting like it doesn't matter. It's worse if you'll be elected. I don't want to be the reason you get found out."

"… Well, it's certainly an _annoyance_, but it isn't necessarily a hardship. It's been expected of me since I can remember, so I've long accepted it. In that sense, it doesn't matter." Akashi's frown deepens. "I won't be found out, either. Honestly, do you take me for that careless, Reo? I-" Ah, there's that frustration again. An exasperated sigh follows. "I don't understand what you want me to say," he finally, irritably says. "You seem to want me to be conflicted and _pained_ about this whole situation. I'm not at all. I find your presence to be a welcome one and I had no intention of ejecting you from my life. What exactly is _complicated_ about that?"

Mibuchi tries to think of words that will make sense to Akashi-fact-based, that's the key. Keep emotions out of it. Akashi has them, definitely, but he doesn't process them the same way. "I had previously assumed," he says carefully, "that our relationship was not just mutually beneficial, but exclusive. I wasn't aware it would be modified, and it was done without my prior knowledge or consent. Understand?"

Akashi considers that for a moment. "I can see why that would upset you," he finally settles upon, and he does, mostly, even if unspoken contracts within relationships are frustrating at best and he rather dislikes being the one that breached some sort of agreement that he wasn't entirely aware of. "Though your lack of foresight regarding my familial duties is a little surprising."

"Call it an emotion-induced oversight." Mibuchi looks up at Akashi's face, and his heart aches. It's not easy to see him. There's a reason he'd gone tens of thousands of miles to get away. "I'm a little less intelligent when it comes to you. My feelings get in the way."

Finally, Akashi sighs.

On any given day, there are very few people he would fly around the world to see. In some cases, he feels a bit obligated, no matter lingering attachments (see: one Kise Ryouta, or really, all of his previous teammates from Teikou). Mibuchi, however, is an outlier. An outlier, apparently, that he has _wronged_, no matter his intentions to do the exact opposite.

So he stands, and then, swallowing that annoying little twitch of ego, bows. "Then I apologize, for not making the situation clear. It was never my intention to upset you or…" _Anything, really_. Other than continue as they were previously.

Ah, that hurts.

Mibuchi knows what that gesture must have cost Akashi, and how seldom he makes them. It's enough to make him reach out for Akashi's hand, and his frown falls off in a sigh. "I'm not angry at you. I wasn't ever, not really."

God, he feels as helpless as he had the first time, when they'd met and Akashi had just _looked_ at him, and his whole life had spontaneously rearranged itself. He reaches out, looking up at Akashi's face, and squeezes his hand. "Sei-chan, it's fine."

Thank _god_ that actually did something. Otherwise, Akashi knows he would have found himself contemplating the nearest large building to throw himself off of. "… I found it very stressful not to be able to contact you," he murmurs, straightening with a quiet huff and squeezing Mibuchi's hand in return. "I'm not sure why you found that to be necessary."

Mibuchi tugs, getting Akashi down onto his lap-it isn't as though he can keep saying no when Akashi's so goddamn adorable. "Because if I contacted you, I'd fold like a house of cards. Like I am now. I'm too weak when it comes to Sei-chan."

"That doesn't seem like such a terrible thing." This is much better. Akashi curls himself up into a neat ball, cheek pressed to one of Mibuchi's shoulders as he stares up at him. "Perhaps you would have found it distasteful, but I _would_ have liked you to be at my wedding."

"I'm sorry." He is, really. "I was afraid I'd see you happy with someone else. That would have been….stressful."

"I'm good at faking it," Akashi absently offers. "But you seem to be good at telling the difference."

Mibuchi leans down, closing his eyes and gently laying his lips onto Akashi's, holding them for a slow, sweet kiss. "Stupid of me, to think I could run from it. I'll request a transfer home in the morning. If...you still want me to come home."

"… Even if we weren't continuing this, I would want you to come home." Akashi frowns, leaning up to chance a bite in the direction of Mibuchi's chin. "What inspired you to live in a place like _this?_"

Mibuchi shrugs, tucking Akashi's head against his chest, fingers slowly working in a slow scratch against his scalp. "My company has agents in most of the major financial capitals of the world. This seemed like the place my supervisors would care the least if I never got married."

Akashi slowly nods, his eyes lidding as he butts his head up into Mibuchi's hand on reflex alone. _This_ is much more familiar and better than conversations about _relationship status_. This part he likes, and is a firm reminder of why he finds Mibuchi's presence so soothing. "When I'm elected," he says, because he _will_ win, "I can make sure you have a job with that kind of security."

"Sei-chan is definitely going to win," Mibuchi says gently. "But I don't want to be your subordinate. I'll just be so good at my job they won't have a choice, that's all. You'll be a big important official, I just want all the time we spend together to be as fun and easy as it usually is."

"You didn't mind being my subordinate in high school," Akashi feels the need to point out. "And it's just an offer. In the event something happens."

"I was your sempai in high school." Mibuchi leans down, inhaling the familiar smell of Akashi's shampoo and cologne, which smells so much like his pillow back home. "I don't mind taking your orders. I just think a relationship works better if we're around each other just because we like each others' company."

"Fair enough," is Akashi's sigh to follow, his eyes lidding as he turns his head to rub his face into Mibuchi's neck. "At least let me find you a nice _apartment_ back home. Nothing like this place. You will see far less of me if you… _settle_."

"Well, we can't have that." God, Akashi is so _cute_, but he always gets sort of hissy if Mibuchi gives voice to that opinion. "Find me a place you'd like to visit, then. If you find a place you'd like to _live_, well, I wouldn't mind that either."

Akashi pauses, contemplating. "I will see what I can do. There is a large chance I will … hide there on occasion." He shudders in spite of himself. "Can you imagine? _Three of them._ One screaming, crying child is enough, but _three_-"

Mibuchi laughs. "Then you'll have to make sure to keep an extra set of everything at my place, if you're going to use it as an escape. You know, I like children. Do you know the sex yet?"

Akashi's face darkens. "_Girls_. As far as they can tell, anyway. One of them likes to hide. I can't blame it, I would, too."

"Ah, at least girls are cute. And _your_ kids will be very cute, I bet." Mibuchi plays with Akashi's hair, pulling him close with the other arm. "What were you like as a baby, Sei-chan?"

"Girls are dreadful, you're insane," Akashi sighs out, though has minimal protests as he curls himself up into Mibuchi's chest. "_I_ was very quiet and well-behaved. I can only hope they inherit my personality and not their mother's."

"Mini Sei-chans, god help us all," Mibuchi teases. "Didn't you say their mother was quiet and well-behaved too? Maybe they'll be as docile and inbred as you say she is, though I bet she's more intelligent than you give her credit for."

"You think that about every woman. I can assure you, she _really_ isn't; there is a difference between being quiet and well-behaved because one chooses to be and being that way because one has no other modus operandi."

Mibuchi laughs softly, too glad to be holding Akashi again to argue. Then again, he never really argues, knowing there's absolutely no point. "Whatever you say. I hope someone's at least been looking after you, you feel thin as a rail."

"… You assume blue-blooded women can cook. So do they. It is actually the opposite." Akashi nudges underneath his chin as he peers up at him. "Perhaps that is why so many men these days marry those of lesser households." He pauses. "Or end up with other men. Shintarou was going to do a study along those lines, I think…"

"So rude. At least tell me you have a competent cook among your household staff, I'll cry if you don't."

Then Mibuchi sighs, worrying at his lower lip. "I've actually done some research into those tendencies, maybe I should give your friend a call. On the propensity of male homosexuality specifically on island-based cultures, I mean."

"I've gotten pickier as I've aged," Akashi begrudgingly notes, and he shifts, settling onto his knees as he straddles Mibuchi's lap, his arms flopping tiredly over his shoulders. "We were drunk when we discussed it, and any correlations with basketball," he notes. "Which seems to be another unifying attribute." Remembering that occasion makes him twitch a bit. "Please remind me to never respond to one of Kise Ryouta's summons again."

"I'm really not sure what you're talking about," Mibuchi confesses, "but I'd very much like to see you drunk." He nuzzles down against Akashi's nose, then kisses him again, luxuriating in the unique permission of it-Akashi's kisses are special, never stolen, and he never kisses anyone he doesn't want to be kissed by. It's a heady, important thing, to be worthy of the touch of his lips, and Mibuchi knows it.

"No," is the firm reply between kisses, and Akashi's fingers slide up through Mibuchi's hair as he stretches out against him like a rather pleased, content cat. "I'm far too honest when I'm drunk. It is unpleasant for everyone."

"Aren't you honest all the time?" Mibuchi asks, hands sliding down to rest on Akashi's thighs. "I can't see you lying to spare someone's feelings. Sei-chan is too adorably brutal for that."

"… Only you ever phrase it that way," Akashi notes, and he slides a hand away to loosen his own tie as he leans back briefly, thinking. "It's more of everything else that I am omitting. Alcohol makes me stop omitting it."

"Ah, the self-censor. Best to keep that around." Mibuchi laughs, tugging on Akashi's tie until it comes free, then taking both ends in his hand and tugging him close for another kiss, murmuring against his lips, "How are you going to be in business or politics without drinking?"

"I have a very high tolerance," Akashi insists, giving Mibuchi's lower lip a soft nip. "It was after a whole bottle of wine-in a very short amount of time, I might add. I needed it, they were being _awful_." He wriggles closer, exhaling an annoyed breath through his nose at the memory, and so he kisses Mibuchi harder, his fingers dragging down the back of his neck. "It was when I went to America for a week, and was having to call you at the crack of dawn."

Mibuchi rolls them forward onto the couch, kneeling over Akashi as he undoes his own tie. "That was pretty inconvenient," he admits, then says after a kiss, "but worth it. You never told me what they did that was so bad you had to drown out their voices. Ah, you don't have to now, I'm just really excited to see you again." Akashi looks stunning like this, half-undone and artfully mussed, and Mibuchi sucks in an appreciative breath at the sight.

"… Truthfully," Akashi begrudgingly answers as he flops back with a sigh, "they were being all over one another. Publicly. _Obnoxiously_." He drags a hand down Mibuchi's spine, enjoying the bumps of it underneath his fingertips, and splays a hand over his lower back as he lurches up for another kiss, missing a bit to sloppily suck Mibuchi's lower lip into his mouth instead. "_That's_ what I meant about the correlation between basketball and homosexuality."

Mibuchi laughs against his mouth, reaching down to slide a hand up Akashi's thigh. "Maybe," he purrs under his breath, eyes dark as his hand creeps up to rest and squeeze between his legs, "we all secretly joined to watch other boys shower."

"Sounds accurate," Akashi breathily retorts, less annoyed by how his voice hitches and breaks by the minute, and he grabs insistently at Mibuchi's belt to yank open the buckle, suddenly very, _very_ aware of how long it has been and _why isn't this happening faster_. "And you were undoubtedly the worst about that."

"Probably," Mibuchi admits cheerfully. He reaches down, palming himself slowly, pulling himself out and getting even harder as he looks down at Akashi. "I always liked looking at you in the showers. Mm, Sei-chan, you want to put your mouth on it? It's okay if you don't."

"You kept all of those confiscated photos, too. Don't lie." Akashi pauses, considering how much his own cock throbs at the thought (proof of exactly how long it has been, undoubtedly), and he nods, making a grab for Mibuchi's hip to urge him upward. "Come up here," he murmurs.

Mibuchi's cock twitches, and he slides up, cupping Akashi's head in one long-fingered hand. "Are you sure it's okay like this?" he asks, voice a bit breathy, too excited to try and sound normal. "I can lay on my back so you're on top, if that's better for you." Akashi is funny with that kind of thing sometimes, enough that Mibuchi's wondered many times whether something awful had happened in his youth to make him crave control so badly.

"Consider it a reunion present." And Reo _should_. He certainly doesn't do this for anyone else. Mostly, Akashi has long decided he likes how excited Mibuchi gets about it-it's a different _kind_ of control, being able to make a person shatter like that-and it's with that in mind that he simply tilts his head forward, tongue dragging slick and messy over the tip of Mibuchi's cock as his own hands grasp at lean hips to pull him forward.

It takes an effort of will not to just fall down. It takes _immense_ effort not to slide forward into Akashi's mouth, but there's no way in hell Akashi will tolerate that kind of thing. Mibuchi strangles a noise that comes out closer to a whimper than a moan, his shaking hands digging into the couch behind Akashi's head. Akashi's tongue is too slick and wet, too hot and talented for all Mibuchi doubts he's done this more than a scant handful of times, and his breath comes out in tight, short pants. "Ahh-Sei-chan-" Not that he can really talk. Not that he can really _think_.

Another sloppy (_eager_) lap of his tongue-"Come _here_" being the utterance underneath his breath, complete with another pull of his hands-and Akashi's lips slide around the head of Mibuchi's cock, his eyes lidded and dark as he swallows him down as far as he can manage at this angle. Feeling the way Mibuchi drips over his tongue, heavy and masculine, makes Akashi groan low in his throat, his own cock aching as it strains against his slacks, and his fingers dig in harder.

It's probably a sign of how much he needs this that Mibuchi almost passes out when Akashi's mouth closes around him. He groans, hips twitching helplessly forward, the head of his cock rubbing over Akashi's tongue as he tries not to just _come_. Akashi's fingers on his hips are digging in hard enough to leave bruises, and the thought of looking at them in the mirror tomorrow almost does him in. "You're so good," he whispers mindlessly. "So good, ah, god, perfect Sei-chan, you-"

It's no use. He lasts barely another minute before tensing, back curving into a tight bow as he spills across Akashi's tongue with a low, shuddering groan.

Akashi's throat bobs in a hard swallow, his tongue dragging out over the length of Mibuchi's twitching cock one last time as he tips his head back to release him with a slick _pop_. "I'm starting to think," he breathes, his fingers dragging up the length of Mibuchi's cock and coming away sticky, "that you missed _that_ the most."

Mibuchi gives him a shaky laugh, hauling himself back to sit on his heels, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. "You don't do it so often that I _miss_ it," he says with a grin, voice still a bit ragged. "Ah, god, that's amazing, though." He reaches out, rubbing a thumb along Akashi's bottom lip. "What do you want, Sei-chan? How do you want to get off?"

Akashi's eyes lid, considering, and his tongue idly flicks out as he does, dragging over the tip of Mibuchi's thumb before he slowly nibbles on it. "I _want_ you inside me-though I wonder if I've ruined my chances for that," he murmurs, idly snaking out a foot to prod at the jut of one of Mibuchi's hips. "Do you know how long it's been? I've been deprived, you should feel ashamed."

"I know exactly how long it's been," Mibuchi remarks dryly, trailing his hand down to shove lightly at Akashi's chest. "I can use my fingers, but you'll have to give me a while if you want something else. Sei-chan is too talented with his tongue."

"You're useless," Akashi sighs at him, though it sounds like more of a tease than anything. "I should just put a fresh battery in you. Mm, but fingers will be fine." Mibuchi's _are_ nice, long and elegant and very, _very_ talented-more so than Akashi is certain he himself is with his tongue (though he isn't inclined to admit that out loud).

Mibuchi darts forward for another kiss, then kisses down to the side of Akashi's neck, lipping against the warm, flushed skin there as he works open the other man's pants, shoving them off. He runs his hands up, soft open-mouthed kisses at the edge of Akashi's collar as he runs calloused fingertips over Akashi's inner thighs. "Your skin is _so_ soft," he murmurs, teeth nipping under his jawline. "Get your legs around my waist, you can ride my hand."

_That_ sounds good, enough that his cock twitches with the idea of it, dripping over his stomach as he wriggles down, winding his legs in a loose coil about Mibuchi's hips. "I'm going to claw holes in your back," Akashi murmurs, turning his head to sneak a bite to the side of Mibuchi's neck. "You can keep those as a reminder until you come back to Japan."

"Shallow holes," Mibuchi mutters, half-pleads, and after a few moments of frantic searching, locates a bottle of hand moisturizer on the coffee table-thank god he hasn't cleaned up for company in a while. He pops up the cap with his teeth, squirting a generous amount onto his right hand before delving back between Akashi's thighs. He squeezes long fingers delicately around his cock, trails over his balls leaving them slick and ready, before sliding a pair up against his hole.

"Shallow… wouldn't get the point across," Akashi breathes, his eyes lidding as he squirms down insistently, his nails scraping gently-for now-along the curve of Mibuchi's spine. "Nice and deep, just like how I want you to fuck me."

Mibuchi hisses out a breath at the scratch and the _promise_, and he sucks slow and long on Akashi's neck. Knowing how Akashi is, he doesn't waste any time sliding in two long fingers, curving and twisting them as soon as they're in, and adding a third before any sane person would think he was ready. "Get you nice and full," he breathes against Akashi's neck. "Just like Sei-chan likes it."

A low, throaty groan pulls from Akashi's throat, his toes curling so tightly that he can feel the muscles all the way up his legs _twinge_ when his legs squeeze tight about Mibuchi's waist. It's almost even _better_ like this, when he's full of something that can twist and stretch and _curl_ inside of him, pressing deeply enough and stretching him _wide_ enough that his mouth falls open with a ragged, broken sound. "Reo," he rasps out, eyes fluttering, his hands clawing back up to lean shoulders and already leaving half-moon indentations in their wake, "that's…" _Good, perfect, I'm so glad you remember exactly what I want-_

"Not enough yet?" Mibuchi guesses, and his knee slides forward, spreading Akashi's thighs wider apart. He teases his thumb around the edge, then spreads his fingers apart, stretching Akashi wide and reaching in deep, pushing firmly against that little nub inside of him that Mibuchi's explored more times than he can count. "Can I make you come for like five minutes straight, like that one time your senior year, do you think?"

Akashi should hate how his skin flushes hot with the memory. Instead, it just makes him shudder, his head lolling back over the arm of the couch as he mindlessly rocks down, grinding against Mibuchi's hand without thought, focused on _nothing_ but where those fingers are pressing and curling inside of him, and how it makes him practically twist to the side with how he _writhes_. "Really… good," he huffs out, his nails leaving scratches for _sure_ as he clings to Mibuchi's back.

Mibuchi bites back the urge to tease. Akashi looks so fucking good, and the last thing he wants is to ruin that by pushing the wrong button, always an option with Akashi. Instead, he just sets his mouth to Akashi's Adam's apple, feeling the thrum of his pulse there as his fingers stroke and curl deep inside him. God, he wants to make Akashi come so hard his eyes cross, and he slides his thumb up, pressing just under his balls to stimulate his prostate from both sides. "You feeling good yet, Sei-chan?" he asks with a grin, and his other hand slides up to rub and pinch at a nipple through his shirt.

_Good_ is an understatement.

Usually, he'd rather ride Mibuchi's cock until they're both a panting, sweaty mess of clawing, clinging hands and bruised lips, but this after so long is _surprisingly_ satisfying. He aches from the inside out, his back arching sharply to better grind himself down onto those damnably perfect fingers, his eyes rolling back at the stretch and press of them as they slide inside of him so full and deep and _perfect_ that he can scarcely breathe.

Akashi manages some sort of a nod, even when he's reduced to nothing more than a squirming mess onto Mibuchi's hand, broken, panting breaths all he can draw into his lungs. He's so hard he hurts, and just _thinking_ about that makes his pulse jump, his cock throb and drip and that's _it_, the last push that sends him toppling over the edge, his teeth sinking into his own lower lip to stifle the mindless sound that wants to escape as he claws red lines down Mibuchi's spine.

Mibuchi loves watching Akashi come. His eyes lock onto the younger man's face, lips parted. "God, you look good," he murmurs, and strokes, twists, lets Akashi ride it out until he's absolutely spent.

Then he kisses Akashi's temple, stilling his fingers, though not pulling them out until Akashi goes limp. "Breathe," he murmurs. "Nice and slow, you did so good."

Akashi lets out a soft, breathy groan, his eyes cracking open to odd, hazy fuzziness and ah, it's been awhile since something has felt _that_ good. He shivers hard, head lolling to bury his face half-heartedly into Mibuchi's neck. "You can do that again," he unthinkingly mutters.

Mibuchi laughs gently, tucking Akashi into his arms. "Wait until I'm rested and I'll do it with my cock," he says, finally pulling out his fingers and wiping them on a tissue. "You look sort of boneless. Want to sleep here on the couch?" Already he's planning what kind of breakfast to make Akashi in the morning.

"Moving seems unpleasant," Akashi hazily agrees. He really does feel rather… floppy. He allows himself to be arranged and curled up however Mibuchi seems fit, firmly telling himself not to fall asleep just yet. "How long until you return home?"

"I haven't even asked for my transfer yet," Mibuchi reminds him. "I'll ask tomorrow morning. But it shouldn't be more than a pair of weeks, that's how long it took me to get it last time. They like me. How long are you staying?"

"A few-" No, he isn't yawning. He isn't going to yawn. That's a rude habit courtesy of Atsushi, no doubt, and he has more control over himself than that. "A few days. I would have liked to stay longer, but that would be in bad form, considering Minako's current state." Akashi slings an arm tiredly around Mibuchi's neck. "It gives me time to find your apartment, I suppose."

"Don't worry. You'll have more of me than you care to deal with soon, I'm sure." Mibuchi nuzzles into his head, and brushes a hand over Akashi's face, closing his eyes. "Sleep. You haven't been sleeping enough, I can tell."

Akashi wants to hiss at him that he is quite fine and well-rested and-a dozen other things (mostly pertaining to how Mibuchi's _mothering_ isn't exactly needed, he's a grown man now, after all).

...Though it's still _nice_.

He forgoes that idea and curls up into a ball instead, deciding that as usual, Mibuchi makes a surprisingly pleasant pillow, and dozes off in short order.


End file.
